


There’s No Shame in Saving Yourself (Even if it Means Taking Some of it Out on Me)

by 44TayLo



Series: Your Mind's a Steel Trap [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: And so is Jarvis, Anxiety triggers, Bruce kinda hates himself, Bruce really needs a hug, Gen, Hulk is Bruce and Bruce is Hulk, It really is triggering. Please don't read if it might be a problem., Mentions of past abuse, Panic Attacks, References to Bruce's childhood, Thought process based off of obsessive thinking/intrusive thoughts and rumination, Tony and Bruce bonding! Yay!, Tony is a great friend, depression triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first it's just a thought, a sentence, a nightmare, but it quickly spirals out of control. Bruce has an incredible mind. He's able to pick things apart and analyze something over and over again until he's examined it thoroughly. That's an extraordinarily convenient thought process for a scientist. Unfortunately, it's a horrible thought process for a man. Especially if that man is a monster. Some nights his brain leaves him be, but tonight is not one of those nights, and Bruce finds himself grateful to have a friend like Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There’s No Shame in Saving Yourself (Even if it Means Taking Some of it Out on Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to run with my "steel trap" thought process idea. I'm not sure if I'm exaggerating how triggering this is, but it bounced back and forth from being cathartic to causing my anxiety to act up while I was writing it. That's never happened before, and usually reading fics with elements of anxiety or depression isn't enough to trigger me, so I want to make sure I give readers a fair warning. Please enjoy, and read responsibly and safely.

He woke not with a start, but with practiced rigidness. Air entered and exited his lungs in too loud gulps and pants as he tried to calm is heart.

The dream still lingered in his mind, poking and prodding him.

Don't analyze it. Don't start. Once you've started, it's too late.

Bruce knew this, fuck knew it, he _lived_ it. He had to, otherwise he would've gone crazy a long time ago.

It was a nightmare, that's all. A compilation of fabricated images and sounds, playing upon the fears in the back of his head.

_"But it might not always just be a nightmare."_

No, he wasn't going to go down that path. He _wasn't_.

_"Because you're a coward."_

Yeah, he was a coward. He ran and hid and pretended. It was what kept other people safe, so he didn't really mind. The Other Guy had other thoughts on the subject, though.

He and the Hulk had come so far. Bruce had even recently learned how to talk to him within their mind through meditation. They'd reached an understanding. The team was good, and people were good, unless Star Man said to smash. Good people weren't for smashing, but bad ones were. And oh did Hulk know bad ones, had experienced only the bad ones until Team.

Even when Hulk was young and stuck in the dark cage of Bruce's mind.

_"Especially then."_

And oh God, this isn't where he wanted his thoughts to go right now.

Roughly rubbing his eyes, he tried to ground himself. He focused on the bed underneath him, the sound of his breathing, but it was too late, and he knew it, could feel it. His stomach churned and his mind felt like it was throwing itself at a wall, bashing itself in a sick form of self-repentance, running the same, well trodden rout over and over and over again. The first domino had been knocked over, and he knew the picture the proceeding events would reveal.

 _"The Hulk is you, and you are Hulk, so what does that say, Banner? You ran for so long, hoping, praying you weren't like_ him _, but the answer is staring you in the face, and it's huge and green and angry._ _Man up and face the truth. You're exactly like your father."_

The thoughts were so heavy, he swore they were corporeal. Black, swirling bodies sneaking in the shadows with clawed hands that pawed and scratched at not only his mind, but his skin as well.

He rubbed at his arms, as if he could wipe away the tingling left by their claws.

_"If you are Hulk and Hulk is you, how can you say you're not a monster? How can you deny that you’re like Brian? You've seen what happens when monsters lure others in, when people become too comfortable around them._

_They drown in the monster's rage._

_They become targets."_

He could smell the coppery, violent scent of blood on the pavement, pooling around her hair and trickling closer and closer and closer, like a hand reaching out for help.

_"It's more than plausible you might hurt someone on the team, it's probable. The creation of the Hulk hardly even adds to that statistic._

_Erksine's formula was supposed to reflect the subject's inner self._

_You know what that means, Banner?_

_You. Are. A. Monster._

_The sooner you leave, the less likely the ‘nightmare’ will be.”_

Bruce curled into himself, pulling his knees to his chest. His head pressed against them as his hands wrapped around his mutinous head.

_“Why are you still here? Unless you want to wake up one day to Steve's supposedly indestructible body torn in half; Thor with his head ripped off, hand still clutching Mjolnir; Natasha and Clint in a boneless, crushed heap; Tony with hope lingering in long dead eyes as blood oozes down his face, neck broken and body limp._

_You want that, don't you? Why else would you still be here? You sick, goddamned bastard!"_

Bile rose as crisp images were summoned from the nightmare. He didn’t want that. He didn’t.

He tried to make himself into a smaller ball.

_“Say you’ll leave.”_

No.

_“Wow. You like imagining them dead, don’t you? Disgusting.  You really are your father’s son, huh, Robert? Leave while you can, you selfish, scientific reject.”_

Nails dug painfully into his scalp as his hands clenched tighter.

No!

_“You think these people, your ‘friends’, want you here? Your own father didn’t want you.”_

Blood isn’t thicker than water. Blood is meaningless.

_“Maybe, but what about all of the other people who thought you were a freak? Your aunt and uncle? Classmates? Betty’s friends? The people working for the military alongside you? And that was all before the incident.”_

I promised Tony I’d stay-

 _“You’ve broken plenty of promises before.”_ The voice took on a high pitched, mocking tone. _“‘I promise I’ll stay hidden under the bed, Mommy’; ‘I promise I won’t make a sound, Dad’; ‘I won’t wake up screaming anymore, I promise Aunt Elaine, don’t send me to a shrink’; ‘I promise I’ll try to get along with your friends, Betty’; ‘I’ll do everything I can to keep from hurting you, Betty. I promise’.”_

I kept the last one. I did everything in my power-

_“But it was your hubris that created the Hulk. You didn’t think the serum would fail. You were so sure, you tested it on yourself. And one of the first things you did was hurt Betty. Then you left her. You don’t think that tore her up inside?”_

It was safer.

_“It wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t been an overconfident idiot.”_

Growling under his breath, he slammed a fist down onto the bed. It made no noise and gave him no satisfaction.

_“And then you ran back to her three years ago. You hurt her, and she came back to you, welcomed you, wanted to help you. And you let her, even though you could have killed her. Face it, she’s the Rebecca to your Brian.”_

He was panting again. It wasn’t so much a struggle to keep his heart rate under control, but rather a struggle to find the strength to even put up a fight.

_“Little Robby Banner, hiding behind his knees, K-I-L-L-I-N-G. First comes anger, then comes fear, then comes death to all you hold dear.”_

The oddness of the phrase shook him out of his numb acceptance. That was creepy even for his mind. And it was wrong. Fear came first, then anger, because Bruce knew that his anger, all of it, stemmed from deep rooted fear.

_“It’s never gonna go away. You should leave.”_

Without thinking, he abruptly stood. This had to stop, and it obviously wasn’t going to on its own. He left his room to seek out the only tried and true method he knew: distraction. If he could immerse his mind in something else, his focus would shift, and he’d at least have a reprieve.

That meant there were really only three options. He could go down to the lab and work, watch TV, or find someone to be around for a while. The last remedy was the rarest, and the most affective.

But he didn’t know if he _should_ be around someone right now. Not when he was like this, when his mind was forcibly bringing up the memories and thoughts that fueled his constant, simmering rage, slowly bringing it to an unwanted boil.

He was in the elevator before he’d consciously decided what to do.

“JARVIS, is Tony awake?”

“He is indeed, sir,” the cool, British voice answered. “He is in the garage. Shall I take you to him?”

“…What time is it?”

“4:17 am.”

If Tony was still awake, then he probably wasn’t having a fantastic night either. The last thing Tony was going to want was someone needing his attention. Not that Bruce was necessarily looking for attention, because that would imply he was going to talk about what was bothering him, and no, that wasn’t happening. Mostly, he just needed to be in the presence of another human being to bring his focus outside of himself. Listening to one of Tony’s monologues wouldn’t hurt, either. But he couldn’t expect anything from the other man if he was having problems of his own, shouldn’t really be expecting anything of him in the first place…

Sensing an internal struggle due to the prolonged silence, JARVIS added, “Master Stark has been down there since early this evening. He’s had a breakthrough with a suit in progress, and can’t be bothered with things as unnecessary as sleep. Your company will be most welcome, I assure you.”

Bruce felt his shoulders relax a little. He sighed in relief. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Of course.”

The elevator moved upwards towards Tony’s floors. Thankfully, it moved quickly, and Bruce’s mind didn’t have time to fall back into its self-destructive process. The doors opened and he heaved a relieved sigh, feeling some of the tension ease out of his body at the smell of motor oil and sound of rock music.

A rough, male voice was singing, “ _you better understand, that I won’t harm your hand, but if it helps you mend, then I won’t stop it…”_

Jarvis turned Tony’s music down automatically until the lyrics were no longer discernable. Tony slid his glasses onto his forehead and glared up at the ceiling.

“Seriously, J? In the middle of this song?”

“I beg your pardon, sir, but Doctor Banner is here, and I thought being able to communicate without prolonged yelling would be desirable. If you’d like, I can pause it instead.”

Tony sighed at the ceiling. “Yeah, okay. I don’t know who you got that snarky attitude from.” He ran a grease covered hand through his hair, finally turning towards Bruce. “Hey, Big Guy. What’s up?”

Bruce shrugged, looking a bit sheepish.  “Um. Nothing much.”

The safety glasses climbed upwards on his forehead as he arched an eyebrow. “Really. It’s God knows how early and you’re up because you feel like it?”

He just shrugged again.  “What were you listening to?”

Tony had tried to educate Bruce on his apparent lack of musical exposure, so he was now familiar with AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, and a few other artists Tony deemed too important to be ignorant of.

“Cochise. It’s Audioslave. I like the lyrics a lot.”

“Oh.” He shuffled his bare feet. “Um…can I just stay in here? Is that okay?”

Looking concerned, Tony walked towards the other man. “Duh. You sure you don’t want to talk? You look kinda…”

“Tired?” Bruce supplied.

“Haunted.”

Bruce paused, considering.

_“Tony’s the one being haunted, haunted by you. Why did you come here? Why didn’t you run away?”_

He took a shuddering breath. At some point he’d started staring at the ground, and now he didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to meet Tony’s stare.

A gentle, warm hand gripped his shoulder.

“Come on, Big Guy. What’s up?”

His throat constricted and his hands morphed into fists. “Just a nightmare,” he whispered.

“Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare.”

Bruce finally looked up. Tony’s eyes were crinkled in concern. Grease covered his hands and most of his forearms, and his hair was standing up at crazy angles.

“It…I hurt you. I killed all of you. I didn’t mean to, Tony. I didn’t. But it doesn’t matter if I meant to or not, it could happen, and-”

The grip on his shoulder became tighter and Tony’s jaw set as his eyes grew determined. “You’re not going to hurt us, Bruce.”

“But-”

“Bruce. We’re fine. Hulk’s proven himself, yeah? He’s shown he’s not going to hurt us. If he does, we all know it’ll be an accident, and we’re ready to take that risk. Everything’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Tony.” His voice cracked, and he could feel the dam breaking, but God he was so tired. So, so tired of holding it back. “It’s never okay. I’d give anything to just be okay!”

His breath was coming in rapid gulps, and shit the dam was broken and everything was going to flood out now.

Tony grabbed onto him with both arms as his legs began to shake.

“Shit, fuck! Bruce, buddy, next time warn a guy when you’re about to have a mental breakdown. I could’ve at least sat you down first.”

Somehow they made it over to the workbench. Bruce sat down heavily, body curling into itself, hands once again pulling on his hair.

_“So much for not bothering anybody. You can’t even handle your issues on your own. No, puny Banner has to dump them on someone else.”_

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

An arm wrapped around his back and drew him into a hug, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder.

“You’re fine, Bruce. It’s okay. It really is, I promise.”

“But I didn’t plan on dumping everything on you like this,” he insisted.

There was too much. Shit, too much of everything. Even with his eyes closed. He could hear his ragged breathing, smell the grease and ozone in the room, feel Tony’s arm on his back and Tony’s breath on his shoulder and the cold bench beneath him and his own hands pulling at his hair and above it all the aching pain of not getting enough oxygen.

And then the Earth began to move, his control began to slip, and he was going to change. Hulk shifted in his mind, trying to surge towards consciousness and pull Bruce under.

His body shook, and he lurched forward. Shaky breathing began to turn to growls as his control wriggled out of his grip.

“Stay with me, Bruce,” Tony said. He moved his hold on the man so he could look at him head on, hands on both shoulders. He shook Bruce, causing him to look up. “You’re safe, Hulk. Nothing’s going to hurt you. There’s no reason to come out.”

And to Bruce’s shock, Hulk listened. He trusted Tony’s judgment and left Bruce to deal with his freak out.

 _“Panic attack,”_ his brain unhelpfully supplied. _“You’re having a panic attack. Over a nightmare. It’s just one step forward and two steps back with you, isn’t it, Banner?”_

“F-fuck,” he managed. “I’m-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, Bruce, I’m going to get rid of your clothes and buy you ones that actually fit, I swear to God.”

He snorted at that, the humor sounding hollow in the tension.

Tony had upgraded from looking concerned to full on worried, and was staring at him intently.

Still shaking, Bruce shifted his gaze to the ground.

“If you hadn’t been here,” he began quietly, “I would have Hulked out. And who knows what he… _I_ would have done? We’re unpredictable when we’re scared.”

“Yeah, well, so am I. And everyone else, really.”

He huffed out a laugh. The panic was slowly leaking out of him, leaving a bone deep tiredness in its wake. “You know it’s not the same.”

Tony deflated, his face falling and breath coming out in a sigh. “I know,” he replied. His voice was tinged with some indiscernible emotion.

“Sometimes I wonder if I should leave,” Bruce muttered quietly.

The other man wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Explain something to me.”

Hunching in on himself, Bruce looked up slowly. “Hm?”

“You lived in India for a while. That’s a really densely populated area, and you were fine there. So what’s so different about New York?”

He looked away again. Tony’s face was just too…worried, confused, open.

_“Do you want help or not? Stop playing the martyr.”_

But he didn’t want Tony to know. Not about this. It peeled back too much skin, exposed too much of the damaged nerves beneath.

_“Come on, Banner. Tell him. Let him know how much you hate yourself._

He inhaled deeply. “I’m comfortable here.”

Tony blinked at him. “Okay…”

His throat began to constrict again, but he forced himself to elaborate. “India was a…way to try and make up for everything. And rationally, I know Hulk is doing even more good here, but I’m happy. That doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t be happy. When I’m not constantly working, my brain pulls up all of these what if’s, and that’s worse here than it was in India.”

Tony let out a long huff. “So you know you’re not actually putting anyone in danger, but you don’t feel like you deserve to be here. And not living in a state of constant preoccupation means your brain’s free to drive you crazy.”

“Pretty much.”

He waited for the confusion, the ridicule, the disgust, but it didn’t come. Tentatively, he glanced up to see Tony nodding.

“Yeah. Okay, I get that. Maybe we can get you working on some environmental tech projects. That might help, right? It’ll distract you and it’s for a good cause.”

Bruce chewed his lip, not sure what to make of this reaction. In place of judgment, there was understanding. Tony hadn’t even lectured him or tried to point out flaws in his thinking. He’d given helpful, applicable advice, as if he could relate.

“Yeah, that would be good.”

“Okay, so there’s one thing we can do. If you can think of anything else, just let me or Jarvis know.”

He nodded numbly. “You’re being very understanding about this.” The words were quiet, his voice still rough and catching in his throat.

Tension crept into Tony’s face and posture. He removed his arm from Bruce’s shoulders and sighed. “I’ve had some experience with irrational trains of thought.”

_“Of course he has, Banner. How could you forget the story about the Extremis incident? Actually, it’s not surprising. You couldn’t even stay awake for it the first time.”_

Jaw clenched and hands wringing, he tried to ignore the guilt worming its way into the pit of his stomach. “Right. Sorry.”

Tony shrugged it off. “Nothing to be sorry about…are you cool now? You’re not gonna Hulk out if I start working again?”

“No. No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He must not have been very convincing, because Tony looked him over critically.  Eyes narrowed, he leaned in close enough that Bruce had to consciously refrain from flinching away.

“You sure? You can stay down here for a while, if you want. I have a couch in the corner you can crash on. I’ll keep an eye out…just in case.”

Ah. He was afraid Bruce would Hulk out. That was completely understandable after what had just happened.

“If that’d make you feel better, I can. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to Hulk out, though.”

Shit, he must have said something wrong. Tony had the long suffering look on his face that usually meant he was explaining something science related to someone on the team that wasn’t Bruce.

“No, idiot. I meant if you’re worried about…you know, having another nightmare or something. I’ll keep an eye on you and wake you up if you do.”

Bruce stared at him, trying to think of something intelligent to say. “Oh.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Your critical thinking skills aren’t living up to their reputation right now, Doc.”

“Yeah. I mean, I’d like that. Thanks, Tony.”

The engineer stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. You’ll ruin my image, and next thing you know, Hawkass and the Human Ice Cube will be down here expecting me to play therapist.”

Bruce followed suit, shuffling his feet. “I won’t.”

Tony nodded and gestured for him to follow. He led him to a couch in the back of the room and out of the way. The corner was naturally darker than the rest of the garage, and the couch was covered in pillows and blankets.

“I’m going to turn my music back on, is that okay?”

Bruce flopped gracelessly down on the couch. The emotionally exhausting events of the last hour had caught up with him, leaving him exhausted and drained of energy.

“Yeah. Thanks, Tony. Don’t worry about checking for nightmares,” he mumbled as he lay down on his side and pulled a blanket over himself. “I doubt I’ll have another one. I just…don’t want to be alone.”

His eyes were already sliding shut, but he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and then ruffle his hair.

“I understand, Big Guy. And you know, you can come down here and unload everything on me when you need to. If it helps you, I don’t mind. Now try and get some rest.”

Bruce began to drift off immediately. The sound of footsteps and machinery drowned out his rebellious mind, blending in with Tony’s music to create a lullaby. Knowing Tony was nearby calmed him, made him feel safe, as did knowing someone was able to understand, if only a little. Someone didn’t think he was crazy.

Sleep finally claimed him as the same song continued to play.

_…And so I drink to health while you kill yourself. And I’ve got just one thing that I can offer, go on and save yourself, and take it out on me. Go on and save yourself, and take it out on me…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know the sing-song thing is weird, but my mind comes up with things of that nature when I get like this, so I figure it’s actually not much of a stretch for Bruce’s mind. 
> 
> Cochise, by Audioslave was the song playing in the background of an Iron Man commercial, so to me that means it’s canon that Tony listens to them. Audioslave in general is amazing, don’t even get me started, and this is a great song for Tony.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I'm not sure if I'll write more and turn this into a proper series, but who knows. I wasn't sure I was going to write this story, either.


End file.
